Behind Blue Eyes
by Skye12
Summary: Frodo walks through the fields of Cormallen and wonders why he lives and is praised as a hero. Deep Angst. No slash. Idea from the song Behind Blue Eyes by The Who.


Taken from The Who's song --- "Behind Blue Eyes" I hope ye like.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
No one knows what it's like to be the bad man  
  
To be the sad man  
  
Behind Blue Eyes  
  
~~~  
  
He walked alone along the fields as they blossomed into spring and the cold chill of winter seemed to dissipate as a fading mist. He drew up his grey hood and his slight figure moving along the fading mists could be mistaken for some forlorn lost spirit. The air was warm and the birds sang of a change in the world. They twittered in their soft song and harkened melody but it seemed so far away from those ears. So far away. He could not hear the music of this new age. Cold feet walked along the cold earth. Yes it was still cold, bitten by frost and an angry winter that proved cruel to those torn feet as well as the withered earth. But it would replenish. It would all replenish and grow in the light of the warm sun of this new world. A soft sigh. This new world. Where had it all gone? With the passing night a part of him was taken with it. A part of him was gone. Torn feet walked across the earth and both spoke of their pains as one consoling the other. But those feet would never heal as the burdened soul of their master. Fists clench and teeth grit. No, never heal.  
  
~~~  
  
No one knows what it's like to be hated  
  
To be faded  
  
From telling only lies  
  
~~~  
  
It took him. Swept him far away from that world and tore him apart like a beautiful tapestry, woven with years of joy and grief, torn at by a merciless knife until no thread could be salvaged. There was darkness in him now and what he had become gnawed at what was left of his soul. He betrayed them. In the end he had failed. Silver tears met the ground and once again shared sorrow with it. Sparkling in the mist those silver stars made their way in rivers and rains to replenished the wounded soil. There was a whispering in the wind of soft voices singing. They say he will move on. They say he will go home. They say he will heal. They are wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! He pounds his fists together in anguish. He clenches his eyes shut those silver stars in their beauty as their twinkling lights travel down his cheeks and kiss the ground feel bitter and sting as any light would pain a forsaken soul. He was empty.  
  
~~~  
  
But my dreams, they are't as empty  
  
As my conscience seems to be  
  
I have hours only lonely  
  
My love is vengeance that's never free  
  
~~~  
  
There was some peacefulness his dark dreams he knew some sadistic creature in him loved to retreat to. They were terrible. Of fire and ash and shadow. They swirled in his head and beckoned him down to them. Down to death. And he answers. And he goes. And he never turns back. There was retreating in that bitter end that he yearned to be given. There was escape in not knowing what he had done. No! This life was punishment for what he had done. He had failed, he was weak in the end. Why did they not loathe him? Why did they sing him praises? Praises of all things praises! He did not deserve praise! Oh, this was his punishment. He was no hero. The loved him but for what? He had not fulfilled the quest. He could never have done it. His will was broken. A shattered soul. A torn heart. A broken mind. Life was punishment now. The burden still weighed on his mind and it pressed him to near edge of madness. In darkness he wept and in light he recoiled. There were friends around him so very glad that he was alive. Too full of their own happiness as his breathing to see that thought his broken body trudged on, but he was far from alive. So very far from living.  
  
~~~  
  
No one knows what it's like to feel these feelings  
  
Like I do  
  
And I blame you  
  
No one bats back his heart on their anger  
  
None of my pain and woe  
  
Can show blue  
  
~~~  
  
"Why did he carry me from that mountain? Why did they take me up from that destruction? My doom was to be consumed by that fire and ash. That was my destiny. And they took it away from me. Like so many things they took away. My life. My home. My heart. My mind. I'm gone. I am broken. I will never be again. Why do they insist I eat? I shall only become thinner till there is nothing left of my body as there is nothing left of my soul. I am dying, can't they see? Just let me die. Let me die. So many things I have failed at. Never once did I succeed. Never once did I prove to them that I was half of what they need. I was never a hero by sheer chance have I escaped and their precious world is saved for them and I am lost to what I saved. Never again will I feel the sun warm my skin, or gaze at the stars in wonder. These were all just passing things. I just wish I knew I would have appreciated them so much more. So much more."  
  
~~~  
  
But my dreams, they aren't as empty  
  
As my conscience seems to be  
  
I have hours only lonely  
  
My love is vengeance that's never free  
  
~~~  
  
He hated himself for what he had become. He hated himself for failing. And yet they loved him with all their might and sang of all is great deeds. He was broken and this figure walking sad and all alone never wished to be found in the darkness he called home. He did not want to drag them with him in this swirling pit of despair, just walking, ever walking, away from the warm spring air. He wished that he would walked until he reached the end of life. Until they would see his figure vanish among the mists and a new tale shall spring and the joyous praises would be replaced by tears of how he left them to their world and was glad that they would now have it. He hoped that they would appreciate the sun and stars and prayed they'd never lose them. There was sadness in the air and the sun's warmth burned through the mists and the grey cloak was bathed in golden rivers of the trickling sunlight.  
  
~~~  
  
When my fist clenches, crack it open  
  
Before I use it and lose my cool  
  
When I smile, tell me some bad news  
  
Before I laugh, and act like a fool  
  
And if I swallow anything evil  
  
Put your finger down my throat  
  
And if I shiver, please give me a blanket  
  
Keep me warm, but beware your coat  
  
~~~  
  
So many times that he should have died. So many times he should have had peace. And yet each time he was denied this and he wondered, simply wondered why this cruelty was his to bear. But then he looked down and saw his maimed hand. And the tears would turn to anger and his teeth would grit and gnash. His pale and perfect face shimmering with trails of tear-rain would flush and turn red in the heat of all his anger. How he hated himself as he glared at that finger his weakness blazed as a beacon before him.  
  
~~~  
  
No one knows what it's like to be the bad man  
  
To be the sad man  
  
Behind Blue Eyes  
  
~~~  
  
Two tear filled orbs turned towards the sky and the pale, shimmering face was bathed in that golden sun. His eyes slowly closed and peace came over his face for just a moment he felt the warmth. A warm hand was on his shoulder and he did not have to turn or flinch. Time moved so slowly and he did not want it to end. But he sighed and two new drops of rain rain down his face to clean it of the anger and touched the ground in silence.  
  
"Mr. Frodo we should be going home now."  
  
"Home. Sam." He turned to the young hobbit and no smile nor frown crossed his blank features. He sighed and put his arm around the shoulders of the one that condemned him to this hell. He loved him all the same. "Right, Sam. Home." The ground seemed to stare at him accusingly for it knew. Behind his eyes he told no lies so he just looked at the ground in silence. 


End file.
